A/N: This is a parody. I'm not trying to be a jerk to JKR, as she did AMAZING work with HP. I'm just having a little fun =D I think you'll like it.

In the basement of a fairly large house, in complete silence except for the scratch of a pencil, sat a writer, hard at work on her latest piece. This writer is, as you may have guessed, J.K. Rowling. But our story today isn't about her. It is about the characters that surrounded her.

Separated into two groups that, although fairly close to each other, stood sneering at the members of the opposite group, stood a host of oddly-dressed characters. The younger members seemed to be dressed in similar black robes, each with different crests. The older characters were dressed in a variety of outfits, and each appeared to have other things on his or her mind than what the author was doing. In particular, two men stood a bit apart from the rest of their group, discussing something quietly. Finally, the younger-looking of the two men scowled at the scarred man and turned to the author.

"Jo, a word, if you don't mind," he said, sounding a bit apprehensive.

"Just a moment," she answered tensely, still scribbling away. He sighed and crossed the room to read over her shoulder what she had just written.

Harry opened his eyes to find that he was looking up out of the kitchen fireplace at the long, wooden table, where a man sat poring over a piece of parchment.

"Sirius?"

The man jumped and looked around. It was not Sirius, but Lupin.

"Actually, that's what we need to talk about," said the man. The woman looked up impatiently.

"What is it?" she snapped. "I'm trying to get this all down before I lose it."

"Well, I need to tell you something important that will probably affect the story," began the man.

"It would be if she was writing the truth," corrected Sirius. "Look at this rubbish." He handed the piece of paper she had just written to Remus. "The two of us are together in a big, empty house, and she's written it like we're nowhere near each other. You're poring over a piece of parchment, for Merlin's sake!"

It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch…

And Harry saw the look on mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind and then fell back into place.

"I'm killed off?!" Sirius exclaimed, throwing the chapter down.

"At least you got it the first time," muttered the writer, relieved. "The fans will deny it until I prove, absolutely, that you're dead."

"Yeah, you are," said the author with a sigh. "Which is a pity, because you were definitely one of my favorite characters."

"And now, just because I'm in love with a bloke, I'm dead?"

"Somebody always has to die, Sirius," said Jo, sounding sad.

Remus, having just finished the paper, looked mournfully at Sirius. "How long do we have?"

"She could have at least killed us both," answered Remus, steering him away. "So we would both go together."

Sirius took Remus' hand in his own. "We have a while," he said. "Let's make the most of it."

And then, in very obvious view of the author, Sirius grabbed Remus recklessly by the jaw and pressed his lips against the other's. Most of the characters looked away, either in disgust or embarrassment. Two remained watching them.

Harry smiled at his godfather, and Hermione had to ask him how he could watch. "I want him to be happy," answered Harry, a small, sad smile crossing his face. "And if Lupin makes him happy, then so be it."

Another character, a minor player so far, watched and smiled largely. "That's hot."

Tonks turned, deciding to let them have their privacy, as Jo observed her with interest…

A/N: Love it? Hate it? ...review, please?

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